Advanced Dungeoneering (The adventures of Reginald Threnthorpe)
by Dragonslayer495
Summary: A half-orc cleric/assassin named Reginald Threnthorpe joins an adventuring party, consisting of an elf fighter/magic-user/thief, a gnome illusionist, a dwarf fighter, a halfling thief, and a guy called Paladin Pete. Expect lots of jibes at AD&D as they adventure through The Keep on the Borderlands module, and fight for glory, honour and loot in the caves of chaos. Image coming soon


This is a story about a fictional group of players playing in an AD&D campaign, using the keep on the borderlands module. The premise is that the main character, a Half-Orc Cleric/Assassin named Reginald Threnthorpe, (who said Half-Orcs had to have Orcish names?), has joined a new AD&D play group. However the story is told through the characters rather than the players, though sometimes some dodgy roleplaying sneaks in on the part of the players and their characters say something out of character.

I am not using any house rules.

I will update maybe weekly, hopefully, if people like it.

I do not own D&D, etc.

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The Half-Orc lay down his beer on the table and waited. He knew something was going to happen, otherwise he wouldn't be having this scene. That's how logic works, and despite certain traditions of dumb half-orcs, he had to have at least reasonable intelligence to be an assassin. So he wasn't surprised when he heard the inevitable approach of footsteps behind him.

"Why hello there, stranger who I've never met before!" came a voice from behind, "You seem trustworthy, even though I've never seen you before. Would you like to join my adventuring party? Of course you would, otherwise the DM wouldn't be making us have this conversation. What's your name?"

"Reginald Threnthorpe, Half-Orc Cleric/Assassin extraordinaire, at your service," replied the Half-Orc to the elf who had met him. "What do you mean by DM?"

Turning to the adventuring party that had suddenly appeared right behind him, the elf said, "Guys, we're in trouble. We've got a proper roleplayer here." Turning back to Reginald, he replied "Dungeon Master, you know that diabolical mastermind that controls the creatures that we fight and people we meet. We also call him the Demigod of Monsters, or Dom for short."

"Who are your mates?" asked Reginald.

"I'm a multiclassed Elf Fighter/Thief/Magic-User. I call myself Legless. I lead this party, 'cos the other guys just ain't as cool as me. The guy in the big shiny armour is Paladin Pete. The little gnome illusionist is Gneil. The big dwarven fighter calls himself Rurik the Muscly, no one knows why, and the tiny little halfling thief is Perrin."

"No girls, huh?"

"Dude, the gaming group is all men. If you wanted females you've come to the wrong part of town. I know you've just joined, but really?"

"Sorry, just roleplaying my character."

"Your character is an attractive half-orc? With a charisma of 4?"

"He was meant to be charismatic, looking more like a man than an orc, but my dice rolls told a different tale. CURSE YOU FICKLE DICE GODS!"

Legless sighed, "Come on, lets get going. I presume you've got some gear." Changing his voice to a whisper he added, "also, don't tell Paladin Pete you're evil, he's a Paladin. Tell him you're a neutral good thief or something."

Reginald smiled, "I love inter-party conflict!"

Then the group and their new-found friend who they just happened to meet and now trust with their lives, even though he's evil and will probably backstab them at the earliest opportunity, left the tavern.

"Alright, people," Legless addressing the others, "lets split up and go buy some gear. Meet me here in an hour."

The party members slowly dispersed, each searching for their necessary items. Rurik entered the trader's shop.

"Hello good sir, I would like fork handles, please." Rurik said as he placed the necessary gold pieces on the table.

"Tallow or wax?"

"What?"

"Would you like four tallow candles or four wax candles? It's a simple question!"

"I don't want any candles! I want handles for forks!"

"Um… I don't think you can buy fork handles."

"I want handles for my military forks! What could be simpler?"

"Sorry, we don't sell those, you would want the smithy for that."

Rurik sighed as he left and headed towards the smithy's. He swung open the door dramatically and slammed gold pieces on the table.

"I'd like fork handles, please."

"We don't sell candles here, you'll want the traders for that."

"I don't want candles! I want handles for my military forks!"

"We haven't got any of those."

"Fine, i'll take a whole military fork then."

"Don't have any of those in stock."

"Okay, let's have a have a fauchard-fork then."

"None of those either."

"Erm… Glaive?"

"Nope."

"Guisarme?"

"No."

"Glaive-Guisarme? Guisarme-Voulge?"

"No, and no."

"Partisan? Bohemian Ear-Spoon?"

"No, and maybe. What's a Bohemian Ear-Spoon?"

"No idea."

"We don't have them then."

"Halberd? Pick, Military, footman's? Pick, Military, horseman's?"

"None of the above. Look, why don't I just tell you what I do have?"

"No, no, I prefer to guess. Ranseur? Pike, Awl? Trident? Voulge? Flail, footman's? Flail, horseman's?"

"No, sorry"

"Spetum? Scimitar? Sword, Two-handed? Sword, Bastard?"

"Mind your language! And no."

"I give in, what do you have?"

"Two swords, a mace, a suit of man-sized chain mail armour, and eleven spears."

"Sorry, you don't have anything that really interests me."

Turning around, Rurik left the shop in an angry rage. Arriving at the designated meeting spot, he was surprised to find everyone already there.

"You're late." Said Legless, angrily.

"Sorry, you won't believe the trouble I had trying to buy a decent weapon."

"Honestly, I bet you didn't even find any candles." Joked Perrin.

Then they set out on an adventure into the wilderness, to find the caves of chaos and destroy the evil that resides there. Though most characters were just in it for the loot. As they left they recounted the rumours they had heard during their stay.

"I heard that an ogre sometimes helps the cave-dwellers."

"I heard that lizardmen live in the marshes."

"You mean lizardfolk, we're not sexist here."

"I heard that a magic wand is hidden in the cave area."

"Shiny."

"I was told to beware of treachery within the party."

"Why is everyone looking at me?"

"I heard that no one has ever returned from the caves."

"I've heard that Gneil is actually a giant mutant space lizard from outer space!"

"Wait, WHAT?!

-Later that day-

Legless sighed, "We're well and truly lost. We might as well set up camp and find our bearings tomorrow. I'll take the first watch."

Having said this, Legless prepared wood for a campfire and starting unpacking the bedrolls and rations.

"I told you we shouldn't have strayed from the road!" yelled Rurik, sending birds scattering from among the trees.

"Rurik, you have the intelligence score of a carnivorous ape. Whenever you say something, I immediately discount it as idiocy."

"That's exaggerating, just a little. I've got the intelligence of your average dwarf."

"Yeah, your average zombie dwarf." Quipped Perrin, before running for his life as Rurik chased after him.

Paladin Pete spoke next, "I hate inter-party conflict, why can't we all just get along?"

"Because some of us are evil, isn't that right my little cutie-pie? Yes it is, yes it is." Pete was startled by the sudden voice from behind him, and the sudden pain as he was knocked sideways by a large animal.

Legless spun round, just in time to see a mad hermit leaping onto Gneil's back screaming like a maniac, and watched in horror as a mountain lion tackled Pete. Perrin and Rurik had run off and the party was weaker than usual. And Reginald had disappeared. Legless cursed himself for letting a chaotic evil assassin into the party, he was probably in league with the hermit!

By the time the surprise round was over, Pete was being mauled by a mountain lion, Gneil was lying unconscious on the floor, and a crazy nuts hermit with three levels of rogue was jumping up and down maniacally. Legless won initiative. He drew his bow and launched an arrow towards the lion, it hit but the lion seemed to barely notice.

It was only through a miracle that Pete was still conscious, he had dodged most of the lion's three attacks, taking only a couple of points of damage on the last one. Thank goodness for his protection from evil aura. He swung his sword at the lion and missed, being attacked again by the angry lion. Blood was now dripping down Pete's face, and he could only look on as Legless was charged by the hermit. He needed Rurik and Perrin to come back. He needed Reginald to reappear. Never split the party. This is what happens when you split the party.

Another round passed, Legless was down. Pete threw the lion off him and ran towards his friend. This would be his final action, his last chance. He laid his hands on Legless, life energy flowing into his unmoving body. Nothing happened, Legless was still lying down, and he hadn't even managed to cast his spell for the day.

Pete drifted into unconsciousness as the mountain lion finished the job.

Just as the hermit and his pet began to cackle evilly, the cavalry arrived. Not the literal cavalry, of course, because they wouldn't be able to get through the trees. Also, they were late. Perrin was still running away from Rurik, but now he was heading back towards the camp. Of course, they weren't expecting the hermit any more than the others were, so they made a really ineffective cavalry.

The moment Perrin reached the unlit campfire he was knocked unconscious by the brute force of the mountain lion. The hermit disappeared and Rurik charged in to find a large lion sitting on top of Perrin. The lion snarled in pain as Rurik's greataxe smashed into its side. But his joy didn't last long, as a sword slid into his gut from behind. Staggering, Rurik turned and swung his axe into the hermit's shoulder, but finally fell unconscious thanks to the lion's attacks.

Reginald stared at the scene from the dense foliage at the edge of the clearing. He could maybe take them both on by himself, but that would be risky. If either of them got a lucky hit, or he rolled low for damage he would be in huge trouble, and the whole party would be dead. He had a plan, but it required at least on other person and would take time, and that was time they didn't have. Unless… What spell had Legless prepared? The logical conclusion would be one that would be useful if they got into a fight, but also useful if they didn't. But regardless, Legless was still unconscious. And a cure light wounds might take too long. Reginald sat down on a tree stump and began to despair, alternating his view between the hermit and his pet and the unconscious body of Legless. In a few minutes he would leave and let the others roll up new characters

Legless opened an eye. Reginald nearly screamed in joy, barely controlling himself. He would take down the hermit and his pet lion, and everyone would hail him as a hero and admit that not all half-orcs are dumb!

A few swift hand actions later, both of them knew what to do. Reginald reached into his bag, pulled out an object and charged towards the unlit campfire, where the hermit and his pet were standing. Legless got up and prepared his spell from where he had fallen near the fireplace. They had the surprise round.

* * *

I though I'd leave a cliffhanger. Imaginary prizes for any who figure out what Reginald's clever plan is.

Please leave a review, it means more chapters.


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